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I’m the one who knocks!

This has been the hardest month. I think I say that every month. But this month really has been.

The no-TV thing is weird. I didn’t realize before how much and often it turns off my mind. I overthink things like crazy when I’m not allowed to zone out or lose myself in a different world.

I’m glad I made it a month of Yoga for June. It helps quiet the mind a little. 

I’ve watched all of season 4 of Breaking Bad in the last 4 days with Eric. I justified it by saying, “It’s on the DVR, it’s not like I’m just zoning out with Dr. Phil.”

And how can you say no to this guy?

My sadist Yoga teacher.

It was like Tales from the Crypt in there and my teacher was some combination of Jigsaw, The Wicked Witch of the West and the Woman in Black — book, not film. She waited until we did THREE SETS OF WARRIOR TWO, two complete with the vine and bird of paradise, two sets of tree and standing bow to say, “You guys do NOT have enough energy today.”

WHAT WERE WE JUST DOING? Fun fact — I do not respond well to drill sergeant/middle school P.E. teacher/overly enthusiastic exercise science major motivation. I turn into the kid I was in middle school P.E., giggling away at the ridiculousness of it, then laying on the floor. 

So then she brought out max chatarungas. I can do one in the flow, so three is extremely laughable. Not only am I weak in upper body strength, I’m not coordinated enough to do three push ups and still flow with grace. I look like a weird turtle with a towel stuck to my legs, dragging itself on the floor. Then we did a second set of crescent lunge. Fine, okay. 

And then I hear, “Since you guys are so tired we better do energization breaths and make a chi ball!”  Wide-legged squats and upper body rotation while in said straddle squat position….60 minutes into class. 

And then, like all things, it came to an end. It was a different, but interesting experience. Then I went home and I was like:

This. Fucking. Towel. Damnit, why won’t it lay straight? Ohhhh half moon, no no no no. I know, the poses you hate are the ones you need the most. Half moon can go straight to hell though. Even chair is better than this shit. Damnit TOWEL, quit curling. Great, I’m so glad the old man RIGHT NEXT TO ME decided to swan dive forward INTO ME instead of staggering his mat like YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO. Okay. Okay. Relax. No more rage. This is yoga. Intention. Haha I can see through that girls shorts. Yeah, crescent lunge LIKE A BOSS. Damnit towel. Remember my intention. Chatarungggaaa. Warrior II. Bird of paradise. Chatttaarrrunnngga. I will set this towel on fire once I leave. Three-legged down dog, triunga, yeah right. Where’s my little towel? What time is it? I love my teachers outfit. I’m in old TJ Maxx shorts and a Target sports bra and she’s in an entire ENSEMBLE. Okay. Remember my intention. Ow ow ow standing head to knee. I hate this. “The choking sensation is normal.” Hahah what if serial killers said that, “Oh. That choking sensation is totally normal.” Chaaatttaarrrunnngaaaa. Floor series. WHY IS THIS TOWEL DOING THIS? Breath of fire. Savasana. Ahh.
My train of thought during a typical yoga class. 

But TV came relatively late to the King household, and I’m glad. I am, when you stop to think about it, a member of a fairly select group: the final handful of American novelists who learned to read and write before they learned to eat a daily helping of video bullshit. This might not be important. On the other hand, if you’re just starting out as a writer, you could do a lot worse than strip your television’s electric plug-wire, wrap a spike around it, and then stick it back into the wall. See what blows and how far.

Just an idea.

Stephen King — On Writing 

Glamor and Glitter!!

Have you ever seen Jem? 

I hadn’t, until I decided Netflix didn’t count as “watching TV” and a documentary on Jonestown turned into two nights in a row of JEM! 

That’s Jem, in the pink. That’s her band, “The Holograms” behind her. 

Yeah, watching Jem totally counts as watching TV. As of yesterday, the Jem love is on pause. 

But watch this intro and tell me you wouldn’t be addicted. 

June

Alternatively known as “The Month I Didn’t Think Through.”

All’s fine and well on the Yoga boat. Month long unlimited pass is purchased (for a stupendous $50) and I’ve decided instead of 30 days of Yoga it’ll more likely be five times a week. Which is still a ton. 

For my off, I’m doing a month without TV. This is the part I didn’t think through. I’m maybe a little bit addicted to Dr. Phil. And I maybe spent the better part of 6 hours yesterday watching the Scripps-Howard National Spelling Bee. (Arvind was robbed, right?) I also feel like Eric will suffer greatly this month, as he loves TV more than anyone. I feel like this will be another FB month, where I constantly bitch about my sad life without technology. Maybe Eric will guest post about how much it sucks.

Maybe it won’t suck at all.

AND, now that May has gotten me in the habit of posting pictures, I’ll likely be posting more! So yay. Plus — my desk stayed clean! 

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